


Never Have I Ever

by Haberdasher



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alcohol, Bonding, Canon Compliant, Crowley's Flat (Good Omens), Drinking, Drinking & Talking, Drinking Games, Drunken Shenanigans, Drunkenness, Gen, Miracles, Multi, Never Have I Ever, Post-Canon, Wine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:41:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21763921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haberdasher/pseuds/Haberdasher
Summary: The adult protagonists of Good Omens play a rousing game of Never Have I Ever.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 39





	Never Have I Ever

Madame Tracy had been the one to suggest that the six of them--herself, Sergeant Shadwell, Anathema, Newt, Aziraphale, and Crowley--get together and unwind one evening, without having to worry about keeping their language and actions suitable for children. It would be good for bonding, she said, help bring them all together, and couldn’t all of them use that, at least a little bit?

Only a few months had passed since the Apocalypse that wasn’t, but they were all already starting to go their separate ways (two by two, at least, just like on the Ark), and while Madame Tracy had been the one to bring it up, they all agreed that such an evening would be nice, getting to discuss what had happened with people who understood and learning more about those they had worked with along the way.

Crowley’s flat was where it took place, since it was big enough and minimalist enough to house all six of them comfortably with plenty of room to spare, though he warned the visitors under no uncertain terms to approach the greenhouse.

(This naturally made the greenhouse that much more an item of curiosity, and several of them noticed that the plants seemed to shake a little when Crowley came too near; while it couldn’t be definitively proven that anyone broke the rule, there were several occasions when people who weren’t Crowley made suspiciously flimsy excuses to get up and then headed towards the greenhouse when it was nowhere near their supposed destination. For his part, Crowley either didn’t notice or didn’t actually mind any such presumed rule-breaking.)

After an hour or two of idle chatting, Anathema was the one to suggest a game of Never Have I Ever, and Aziraphale provided the wine for it, bringing over two bottles of his finest wine and six mint-condition wineglasses.

(The reason he chose to bring _two_ bottles, while initially unclear to the humans present, soon became all too clear as both Aziraphale and Crowley awkwardly explained their preferred method of getting drink out of their system.)

Anathema, as the suggester of the game, went first, with a mischievous smile on her face.

“Never have I ever kissed a girl.”

“That’s not fair!” Newt protested as he took a drink.

“All’s fair in love and war.” Anathema replied with a twinkle in her eye.

Shadwell took a drink as well, surprising nobody; Crowley took a drink (”it was part of a temptation a few centuries back--and a bloody successful one, I might add”); Madame Tracy took a drink (”I never discriminated in my services, dears--money is money, isn’t it?”). Aziraphale looked at Crowley for a long moment, but didn’t touch his wineglass.

Newt, who was sitting next to Anathema in the haphazard circle the six had formed, went next.

“Never have I ever kissed a _boy_.”

Anathema shot him a dirty look as she took her drink, but said nothing. Madame Tracy took a drink quickly and silently. Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged a long, knowing glance before the two simultaneously shrugged and took a drink. Shadwell didn’t move in the slightest.

“Never have I ever lied about my age.” Shadwell said.

“Oh, come _on_.” Crowley protested as he and Aziraphale both gulped down drinks (as did Madame Tracy).

“Never have I ever broken a bone.”

“Never have I ever shoplifted.”

“Never have I ever stayed up all night.”

“Never have I ever had a one-night stand.”

“Never have I ever been arrested.”

“Never have I ever played strip poker.”

“Never have I ever stuck gum under a table.”

“Never have I ever had a crush on my best friend.”

“Never have I ever jumped out of a plane.”

“Never have I ever been too drunk to walk straight.”

“Never have I ever _been_ straight.”

The night went on as the group kept playing the game and sharing stories along the way until eventually, the wine bottle that Aziraphale and Crowley had been sharing ran out.

(The bottle that the other four were sharing was still over half full at this point.)

“This isn’t- isn’t _fair_ , you know.” Crowley said.

“Sounds like someone’s a sore loser.” came the instant rebuttal.

“No, no, he’s got a point.” Aziraphale replied. “And that point is- well, the point is we’ve been around a lot more than you lot, and more- more time around means more things done, since doing things needs time. Gives the rest of you a big adtan- adant- avdan- leg up.”

“Yeah, you’ve been around- what, a hundred years, maybe?”

(Madame Tracy and Shadwell looked a bit peeved at that statement, but Crowley didn’t seem to notice as he pressed ahead.)

“And we’ve been- it’s been six _thousand_. Give or take. So we should drink less each time.”

“Now _that’s_ what would be unfair.” Newt replied.

“No, it’s- it’s fair, it’s totally fair, so long as we get the popror- propror- popor- amounts right, anyway.”

“Can’t you two just... get un-drunk, if it’s that big of a deal?” Madame Tracy suggested, adding in a lower voice, “Lucky bastards, you two, not having to deal with hangovers like the rest of us.”

“Well-”

“At least do it the once so we can settle this argument with us all in our right minds.” Anathema said.

“I- I resent that remark.” Aziraphale said. “For the record.”

“And I resent- I resent the idea that I’m _ever_ in my right mind.” Crowley added.

Aziraphale silently rolled his eyes.

“I mean, we’ve all had a few drinks too-”

“ _Not like they have._ ”

“Go on, then, get _less_ drunk at least, so we can discuss this on equal terms.”

Aziraphale and Crowley both scoffed and sighed and stared at their shared empty wine bottle.

“Come on-" Shadwell said. “You’re just being difficult at this point, get on with it-”

He was silenced by the sudden eruption of two pained voices shouting, “I’m _trying_!”

The angel and the demon exchanged a look, each clearly not having expected the other to join them.

Aziraphale was the one to go from meaningful glances to actual words first, though those words were somewhat slurred, and he stumbled over them a bit. “Wait, you, you- mean you _also_ were-”

“It’s not bloody working-” Crowley responded. “But I don’t know _why_ -”

“Both of us- _both_ of us can’t- something happened, up there, or down there, or in between, somewhere in there anyway-” The last half of this patchwork statement was accompanied by hand gestures which managed to be both sweeping and largely unclear.

“I’ve got an idea.”

Several of the people still seated uncomfortably in their circle were made even more uncomfortable by the strange glint in Crowley’s eyes as he said those words.

“What-”

Before the question could be fully articulated, Crowley whipped out a pocketknife and ran it across his hair, crimson locks falling to the floor as chunks of hair were haphazardly cut off.

“ _Crowley_.” Aziraphale only said the one word, but somehow, it was enough to convey his utter confusion and consternation with Crowley’s actions just the same.

“It’s- it’s something to fix.”

“You’ve got that right.”

Several pairs of eyes swiveled from Crowley and his new mess of a haircut to Newt, who had abruptly spoken up for himself, though his face was rapidly turning almost as red as Crowley’s fallen locks.

“He’s not wrong.” Anathema added. “It is pretty... horrid-looking.”

A few snorts of laughter rang out, but nobody else spoke, and as the seconds passed, most eyes settled back on Aziraphale and Crowley.

A minute passed before Aziraphale spoke in a low tone.

“Did you try?”

“’Course I did. You?”

“I- I did too... you don’t think that...”

“Dunno what I think.” Crowley hesitated for a moment before adding, “Dunno _if_ I think. Too damn drunk for that.”

“Well, that’s rather the problem, isn’t it?”

Madame Tracy stood up, but made no movement to actually leave the circle they had formed before asking, “Are we... intruding, here? Do you two need some time alone to figure all this out?”

“No, no, you’re fine-”

“Good to have you around, really. What if- what if they turned us _human,_ out of- spite, or something? Having you lot around might be the only way we’d make it.”

“You think Heaven and Hell turned you two human as a punishment?” Newt said.

Aziraphale and Crowley shrugged in unison.

“Bit rude, that, don’t you think?”

That got everybody in the room laughing, somehow, even Newt himself, until several people were left clutching their heads in pain as the noise of the laughter caused uncomfortable headaches.

Crowley was the first to move away from the post-laughter silence and speak up once more, nudging Aziraphale unsubtly in the side as he did so.

“Bloody hell, we’re screwed.”

**Author's Note:**

> There's a chance I'll write more of the aftermath of this, but since I don't have any concrete ideas for that, calling it a oneshot for now.
> 
> If you liked this, consider following me on tumblr at [haberdashing](https://haberdashing.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
